Existential
by Suiri
Summary: The real Jack Spicer wasn't what they expected.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own xiaolin showdown. If I did, Chase would be groveling at Jack's feet.

Warning: Chase x Jack and probably bad grammar. English isn't my first language. If there's any mistakes, please feel free to let me know.

AN: My first in this section...

Summary: The real Jack Spicer wasn't what they expected.

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><p><strong>Existential <strong>

* * *

><p>The real Spicer wasn't as tall, or gangly, or as loud as the one the public has come to know. He was a slender, delicate, small boy with a head of shocking white hair and big, solemn eyes. He hid behind the curtains, like the Grand Wizard of Oz, watching the outside world through the eyes of his first and fondest creation.<p>

Jack Spicer One.

It started as a simple project. He set out to create the perfect companion because, simply put, there wasn't anyone near Jack's age with the intellect to keep up with him. There weren't many adults that could keep up with him either and adults, Jack found, didn't like being contradicted. They didn't like being corrected and they liked it even less coming from a boy who barely came up to their knees. By the time he learned to keep quiet, it had been too late.

He had already managed to ostracized himself.

The other children didn't like him. He looked too weird and spoke too strange. Jack remembered spending a lot of his childhood alone, just looking out the window. His parents were in and out of the country for most of his life. The nannies only stuck around long enough to make sure that he ate and bathe, but nothing else. No one paid him any mind. Even the servants went about their business as if he wasn't there and when he got older the companionship of his nannies, as little as it was, vanished.

No one really missed him when he disappeared one day to the underground basement of the manor.

It took one year, dozens of blue prints, meticulous hand written notes, and over a million dollars, but all the effort and hard work was worth it. He proudly looked on as Jack One blinked for the first time.

He instilled his creation with every aspect he wished he possessed. The ability to expression emotions (though Jack One tended to be over dramatic at times). The ability to go outside. (His albinism, very much real, kept him shrouded in the dark). He even gave Jack One the ability to make his own decisions and in the end, Jack One became more human than the real Jack, who simply faded into the background.

Everything about Jack One was supposed to contrast against reality; from the eye-catching wild red hair to the goth like clothes.

The real Jack was content to remained in the shadows, never leaving the safety of his mansion if he could help it. He never planned on revealing himself to Chase Young or the Monks. It was just unfortunate that karma and Jack One didn't feel incline to agree.

He looked up from his hidden lab when Jack One kicked down the door and hysterically came through.

"Jackie!"

Jack hated that name. After years of hearing it, though, he had grown accustomed to it. He stared at his creation and frown he when saw one of the Xiaolin monks coming in behind. Jack One grabbed his arm and tried to pull him out of the room.

"What are you doing?" Jack asked with furred brow. He dug his heels in and grabbed the table. The more important question was why was Clay there? Did that mean that the others were inside the mansion as well?

Clay looked bewildered when he saw Jack.

"It's Chase!" Jack One's voice grew higher in pitch and he looked desperate. "He's hurt!"

Jack released the table.

Despite being opposites, there were just some things he shared in common with his creation. His admiration of Chase Young was one of them.

"Where?" he asked. He followed after Jack One who led him to the living room with Clay following silently behind.

He walked into chaos.

The rest of the monks were there, gathered around a heavily bleeding and unconscious Chase who took up space on his living room couch.

Omi looked up.

"Ah, you would be the physician that Jack has spoken of?" the little monk bowed respectfully. "He is very hurt."

Chase was pale, paler than he was normally, and the blood wouldn't stop flowing. It seeped passed Kimiko's fingers as she tried to staunch the wound.

"No offense, but you look too young to be a doctor," Raimundo stared. "You're no bigger than Omi!"

Jack didn't take offense.

He gently shoved Kimiko aside and took over. "I have several doctrines, including a medical license."

While Jack One was off gallivanting for Wu, Jack had nothing better to do. Studying medicine was something he picked at a whim. He never thought he would have a use for it.

He also never expected that Chase would be his very first patient.

"What happened?" he asked.

"An exploding Wu-" Omi was cut off when Clay's hand clamped over his mouth.

"A car accident?" Kimiko suggested quickly.

"I know all about the Wu," Jack said. They stared at him as he glanced down at Chase. "He should be fine."

"With all that blood?" Dojo asked doubtfully from his place around Omi's neck.

"He's Heylin," Jack reminded them. "Look. His wounds are already closing. He's healing himself."

The sizable hole in Chase's stomach was already shrinking.

Jack glared at Jack One. All this time of being hidden and he had outed himself because Jack One was too hysterical to remember that Chase was practically immortal.

"Sorry," Jack One held up his hand in apology. "I thought he was seriously hurt!"

Jack felt exceedingly tired as the monks began their round of questions.

"You know about the Wu?"

"How did you know that Chase was Heylin?"

"Are you and Jack related?"

"What's your name?"

He and Jack One shared a look.

"I'm Jackson," he said reluctantly. "A cousin of Jack."

"Jack and Jackson," Raimundo gave him a sympathizing nod. "I've got a cousin name Taimundo."

"I can see the resemblance," Clay mentioned with a thoughtful look.

"Why haven't we've met you before?" Omi wondered. "How do you know about the Wu?"

"Jack and I don't have any secrets. We're best friends," Jack answered slowly.

"You could say we were made for each other," Jack One offered.

Jack inwardly cringed.

"I must say...you seem a lot more level-headed than Jack," Dojo nodded his approval.

"Hey!" Jack One looked insulted.

Before anyone else could get out a word, a hand had reached out and snagged Jack. He found himself being pulled onto a firm chest as a nose buried itself into his neck.

Jack froze.

A mouth went to his ears and hissed. "Who the hell are you?"

Jack's heart thumped as golden-slit eyes opened. Chase grabbed the hairs on the back of his neck and tugged at it, demanding an answer.

"J-Jackson. Jack's cousin," Jack sputtered out. He had never been this close to his idol before. He found himself nervously trying to pull away.

Chase released him with a calculating look. "Jack's cousin?"

"Yes." Jack found himself hiding behind Jack One. "Do something," he hissed.

"Like what?" Jack One whispered back.

They both gave an unmanly squeak when Chase got up from the couch and loomed over them. Jack's knees trembled because Chase Young was decidedly much more intimidating in person. Those golden eyes were staring at them so intensely that Jack half expected himself to burst into flames. Chase looked thoughtful before he gave Jack a brisk nod and disappeared.

"Oh look, time for dinner," Jack One yelped. The grandfather clock in the living room chimed with a loud bell.

"Oh, dinner!" Omi rubbed his stomach. "I'm so famish I can eat a full house!"

"That's eat a horse, Omi," Kimiko corrected.

"Yeah, we better go before everyone at the temple gets worried," Clay said.

Jack had never been more relieved to see them head out the door. When they were gone, he turned to Jack One and crossed his arms.

"Aw, come on," Jack One pleaded. He doubled the sizes of his eyes (something Jack has yet to learn to counter) and his lower lip trembled. "I didn't mean to do it. I swear!"

And when his creation looked like that, sad, anxious, and genuinely sorry, Jack couldn't find it in his heart to stay angry.

"I guess you didn't do any real harm," he said reluctantly. He doubt the Monks or Chase would be back. Logically speaking, they didn't have a reason to.

"Wait! Where are you going?" Jack One began to follow after him.

"I'm tired." Jack wanted nothing more than to crash on his bed and just forget about the day.

"Ok!"

He wasn't surprised when Jack One joined him on the bed. He was a very touchy-feely creation who didn't find it uncomfortable in the least to place his arms around Jack's waist as they slip underneath the covers. Unbidden, Jack's hand went to ruffle Jack One's hair.

Jack One didn't have human warmth. He smelled of mechanical oil and metal and if Jack listened very carefully, he could hear the gears inside of Jack One's body shifting and moving. It was moments of peace like this, with Jack One's head tucked into his neck, did the realization that Jack One wasn't real hit him.

Maybe...just maybe with all the bustle and hustle that the monks and Chase brought, the first contact he's had with real people in a long while, he feels a bit lonely now with just Jack One by his side.

"You ok?" Jack One asked. He picks up on Jack's mood and raised his head. Same colored eyes stared at one another.

"I'm fine."

And he was.

Maybe.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own xiaolin showdown. If I did, Chase would be groveling at Jack's feet.

Warning: Chase x Jack and probably grammatical and spelling errors. Sorry. English isn't my first language, but I hope my efforts show.

AN: This was suppose to be a one-shot, but readers wanted more. Who am I to deny them? Thanks for the patience and happy holiday!

Summary: The real Jack Spicer wasn't what they expected.

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><p><strong>Existential <strong>

**II**

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><p>Jack Spicer was an anomaly. He was around five-years-old when he wondered off for the first time. He had left through the back doors of the mansion and into the pouring rain without anyone trying to stop him. His white hair was instantly plastered to his pale baby face. It curled around the crown of his head in a translucent sheen, giving him a stranger look then his normal ghost-like appearance. The servants watched as his little figure, dressed in a white jumpsuit, slowly walked further away.<p>

"Go tell the master?" one servant asked.

"He wouldn't care," said another.

They let it go and continued their jobs.

Jack had left the compound and the relatively safety of his home. He had managed to find his way to a dirt road and he continued on his way without a destination in particular, but with a curious mind. As the storm grew stronger, little Jack became more enthralled with his new-found freedom. He trodded around and peered at everything with large, crimson eyes that shone with amazement and wonder. He had walked for a good mile. His jumper was caked in layers of mud and water when he spotted it... a little box left on the side of the road.

A head peeked up when he ambled closer. Golden eyes stared at him and Jack had stared back. He lifted the black and white cat from the box and named it Chase, after a warlord that he read about and admired.

That abandoned cat would be his only friend for the years to come.

Chase would become Jack's second shadow, nipping affectionately at his heel. He was never more than a few feet from Jack. Everywhere the boy went the cat was sure to follow. They ate and bathed together. They even slept together with Chase curled on top of Jack's head.

When Chase died, Jack buried him in a little grove a small distance from the manor.

He created Jack One a year later.

Jack One was never meant to replace Chase. No one could replace the best friend that stayed by his side for over a decade. Jack just needed something to occupy his mind. He just wanted a companion.

Jack One blinked to life. His eyes were brimmed with curiosity as he glanced around. One hand reached up to scratch his head as a strand of red hair fell in his eyes. His very first words were "Dude, this place is sweet!"

One month later, Jack gave Jack One the basement as an evil lair. He received an enthusiastic embrace, his very first, and a happy "I love you, Jackie!"

Jack embraced Jack One back tentatively.

Thanks to Jack One, Jack had experienced plenty of firsts. His first panic attack...when Jack One came back after his first battle, bruised and battered. It took Jack all night with the blow torch and welding supplies to fix Jack One's dented body.

His first blush of embarrassment...Jack One had secretly taken a photo of Chase Young. It showed the Heylin after one of his triumphant battles standing tall and confident. His profile was so commanding that it made everything else around him shrink in comparison. Jack One had given the picture to Jack on his birthday with a gleeful laugh as the flush worked it way down from Jack's cheeks to his neck. The photo was carefully tucked away in a nightstand.

His first outburst...it would be the first time Jack had ever lost his temper. He couldn't remember what the argument was about, but he always remembered the feeling of release after he let out a barrage of yells and anger.

His first time being cared for by someone who was sincere in wanting to see him well...Jack One has always seen Jack through his bouts of sicknesses. Jack had never really been in good health. He had been born a premature child with a weaken immune system that never really developed correctly.

On certain occasions, like the excitement of having Chase Young and the monks in his home, he was proven once again that his body wasn't normal. He had taken to bed with a fever.

"Do you want me to get the cook to make some porridge? Sound good, right? Yup. Porridge it is. Don't worry, buddy. I'll get you back on your feet in no time." Jack One was hovering over him with a worried brow. He snapped his finger and a Jack bot appeared.

"Tylenol. No, Aspirin. No, Oxycontin. What's the name of the doctor again?" Jack One frantically scrolled down the numbers on his cell. "Should we just call 911?"

Jack One still tended to overact when Jack got ill. Jack reached out a hand and managed to snag at Jack One's jacket.

"I'm fine. I just need a little rest," he said quickly.

"Are you sure?" Jack One looked uncertain.

"Yes."

"Ok then. Peace and quiet coming your way." Jack One gave him an encouraging smile. "Get well."

The door closed with a quiet snick.

"Alright, listen up Jack Bots!" Jack could hear Jack One's voice floating from down the hall. "If you so much as make a sound I'll put all of you on septic duty!"

"But boss!"

Jack closed his eyes and slept.

A Wu activated during his illness. Jack One looked torn between staying or going and Jack was always going to regret what he did next.

He told Jack One to go.

"I don't want to leave you alone. Not when you're not feeling good," Jack One bit his lips. "I can stay."

Jack just shook his head. Jack One hesitated for a little longer before he made up his mind.

"Alright, you call me if you need anything, my cell is going to be on. I'll leave a few Jack bots with you," Jack One grinned. "I'll be back before you know it."

The last image he had was of Jack One's hurried back leaving the room.

"See you later, Jackie!"

Jack heard the heliopack take off.

Chase was the one who brought the pieces of Jack One back that afternoon. He held it out to Jack who took it with a stoic face.

"He took the blast for me, the stupid fool," the Heylin said flatly.

There wasn't much left of Jack One. Even his memory board was gone.

"_See you later, Jackie!" _

Jack planned for an indoor service.

The coffin, rocker black with cool red spirals, was delivered a few days later. His living room was turned into memorial completed with red and black roses and blown up pictures of Jack One.

Jack was standing in the middle of the room when the doorbell rang. When he opened the front door, there was a group of monks dressed in black standing on his doorstep. Jack was speechless. He had sent out the invitations, but he never really expected anyone to show.

He wasn't sure how to react.

Omi held out flowers and looked ready to burst into tears. He was comforted by Kimiko. Clay looked at a loss. He took off his hat in a show of condolences.

It was really Raimundo who spoke for the entire group.

"It gave us a shock that Jack wasn't, you know, _real_, but it doesn't mean he wasn't a friend. When he wasn't evil that is," Raimundo added. "Anyway, we're sorry he's gone and we wanted to pay our respects."

Jack paused.

"Come in," he finally said. He allowed the monks to enter. As they passed by, Dojo patted Jack's shoulder.

The doorbell ranged again.

Flowers was shoved in his face and Wuya looked uncomfortable. She didn't say a word...she just floated in. Behind her, a teary Ashley blew her nose. The doorbell continued to ring afterwards.

Jack watched from the corner of the room as everyone began to mingle, sharing their Jack One stories. Pandabubba was there munching rather sadly onto a tart as Vlad chatted. Wuya and Cyclops were looking at the photos of Jack One.

Despite the larger than expected crowd, Jack still didn't see the one person he was sure Jack One wanted at his funeral.

"Ah hem," Hannibal Bean stood at the podium. He looked at Jack. "Time to start, right?"

Jack nodded numbly.

The guests took seat in the chairs that Clay and Omi had been kind enough to find around the manor.

"Alright, I'm going to start by saying that Jack was a miserable, pathetic, sad excuse for a henchmen."

Hannibal Bean had to duck flying objects.

"Dude, that's not cool!" Raimundo crossed his arms. "You're ragging on a dead guy!"

"Let me finish!" Hannibal Bean rolled his eyes. "Where was I? Oh right, kid was pathetic and useless. He was afraid of anything that moved. He jumped at every shadow and he had this scream that I swear I've only heard come from banshees. As far as the henchmen thing goes, he wasn't the best. In fact, I think he might be the worst. But he grew on you the more you hung around him. Like a fungus. I haven't met anyone, real or otherwise, who had as much guts to keeping coming back time after time, even after all his failures. I mean, it's admirable if it wasn't so-"

He was shoved aside by Kimiko.

"Let's keep it at that," she said hastily.

One by one everyone took a turn. Some like the Monks (and surprisingly Wuya) said some very touching things. The others were not so nice, but they made an effort. Jack was sure Jack One would have appreciated the thought.

At the end of the memorial service, all the forces of good and evil left rather peacefully and he was finally left alone.

Almost alone.

A shadow detached itself.

"He was so very life-like wasn't he?" Chase Young commented. His golden eyes stared at the coffin. He took a look at the black and red draped room. "Out of curiosity, Spicer, why not make another one? He can't be hard to replace."

"There won't be another Jack," Jack said firmly. He reached a hand into his pocket where he felt Jack One's burnt goggles. The melted plastic was smooth against his finger tip.

"I'm sure you can make another. He was made of bolts and metal. Why this farce of mourning?" Chase looked like he genuinely wanted to know why Jack had gone to the trouble to plan a funeral for a mere robot.

"Jack can never be replaced." Jack looked into Chase's eyes with resolve. He doesn't expect Chase to understand what loss is.

"I'd like to be alone," he lowered his head.

Chase acknowledged his request and vanished.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own xiaolin showdown. If I did, Chase would be groveling at Jack's feet.

Warning: Chase x Jack, Bad grammar since English is only my second language.

AN: Thank you for reading and sorry for the wait. Inspiration is a lot like my cat. It comes and goes. Mostly goes. Hopefully inspiration will come purring at my feet soon.

Summary: The real Jack Spicer wasn't what they expected.

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><p><strong>Existential <strong>

**III**

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><p>Guan likes to visit Chase. He usually floats in from the afterlife to observes his old friend. As long as he is silent and stays out of the way, Chase tolerates him. Very rarely does Chase outright speaks to him. When he does, though, Guan is reminded on why a thousands years and death wasn't enough for him to break up their friendship. He still sense a little of the old Chase he had known inside the new, cruel version.<p>

Like now, when Chase arrived back from the mourning rite for the one called Jack. Guan watched as Chase sat on the throne with a thoughtful, introspective look. There was a wine glass in his hand, but Chase doesn't bother to drink.

"I don't understand it," he said.

"Understand?" Guan questioned.

"The thing wasn't alive. Why the funeral?"

Guan hid a smile.

Even before he became Heylin, Chase had a thirst for understanding. He soaked up knowledge like it was a sponge. If there was something he didn't understand fully, he thought on it to the point of obsession until he found the answer. Chase's ambitious, inquisitive nature was probably what made him susceptible to Wuya and Hannibal Bean's lure.

Guan paused for a bit before answering. "As humans, we mourn for a lot of things that aren't living. "

Chase raised an eyebrow. "Like?"

"Weapons," Guan replied. Long ago, Wuya had broken his favorite staff. He still misses it. "TV shows that has gone off air...hairbrushes." The last bit was a deliberate, gentle jab at Chase. The memory came to Guan and he reminisced wistfully. It had been a brush made from bamboo adorn with a single red bead. There were dozens of it sold in the market, but when Chase lost his he wouldn't come out of his room for three weeks, claiming the brush he had was the only one that could tame his hair correctly. Ah, they were so young back then...Guan fought the urge to sigh when he looked at Chase now. Every strand of hair was held perfectly in place thanks to Heylin Magic.

Chase drained his glass before he spoke again.

"He could have made another," his friend said rather cynically.

"He could," Guan agreed. He floated in the air and scratched at his chin. "But he won't." The firm conviction in his voice caught Chase's attention.

"And you know this how?" Chase asked.

"Being dead does bring about different perspectives," Guan said. He had known about the boy and the bots for a while now. It was hard to miss that unique coloring. Occasionally, when he wasn't visiting Chase, Guan went to see how the boy was.

The little boy hidden in the manor reminded Guan of Chase. It was hard to read the expression on either of their faces, but if one were to look deep enough, there was a little speck of loneliness and of being lost in their eyes.

Guan wondered if all orphans had that look.

"He's an orphan?" Chase asked.

Did he say that out loud? Guan didn't realize that he was voicing his thoughts. Caught, he answered, "In a way."

In the time that he had been watching the boy, he never saw a parental figure nearby even though from conversations he'd overheard he knew that the boy's parents were alive and well. They had outright abandon the child and left him to his own devices. The only credit they deserve was that they had made sure that the boy's needs were taken care of. The boy had a home and he was never starved. He was just starved for affection, perhaps. Other than the money, there was no difference really between Jack Spicer and the boy who lived in the orphanage a mile away.

Guan saw how tightly Chase held the glass.

Chase got that far off look in his eyes. There was bitter anger brewing as golden eyes narrowed. Guan wondered if Chase was thinking of his own mother, a callous woman who had left Chase in the woods when he was three.

A young Chase had spent weeks out there before Dashi stumbled upon him. By that time, Chase had been on the brink of death, stomach caved in from hunger and tears rolling down his face as he cried for his mother. As young as he was, Chase never forgot.

The part of xiaolin that was still buried deep somewhere in Chase allowed the Heylin to sympathized with Jack Spicer. It gave Guan hope that one day Chase might come back to the side of good.

"You should check on him," Guan suggested.

Chase scoffed.

"He had lost his only friend," Guan reminded. He had seen first hand the bond between the boy and the bot he had created. It didn't matter if one wasn't alive by human standards. The pure affection they had for each other was real. The loss must have been devastating, especially considering the boy had no one else.

Guan himself empathized with the boy. He knows what it feels like losing someone that was like a brother. He looked at Chase as a case point.

"He'll get over it." Chase said rather flippantly. He got up and headed towards the bedroom.

And Guan?

He just floated there in silent contemplation.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Xiaolin Showdown. If I did, Chase would be groveling at Jack's feet.

Warning: Chase x Jack, Bad grammar since English is only my second language.

AN: Hello, everyone. Thank you so much for the kind reviews. I was not expecting all the outpouring of support. I feel so ashamed that it took me this long to come out with another chapter. You don't know how hard it was to write. I kept deleting and rewriting, deleting and rewriting. It was an endless circle of torture. I hope someone likes it, though.

Summary: The real Jack Spicer wasn't what they expected.

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><p><strong>Existential <strong>

**IV**

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><p>Wuya liked Jack One. She genuinely did. Granted the boy was a bit of an airhead, was clumsy, was prone to every phobia known to mankind and then there was his hypochondriac personality to consider (and those were his good points), but all in all, Wuya remembered Jack One very fondly.<p>

In the centuries that she had lived, no one had ever given her a second chance before. Or a third. Or a fourth. Or a fifth. Jack One's ability to forgive her for the numerous times she had betrayed him was enough to make her puke at the goodness. But at the same time, it touched her. He had always welcomed her back with open arms. Like a doting father welcoming back his rebellious daughter.

Wuya always had a place no matter what happened.

Now that Jack One was gone, what was she suppose to do?

Wuya glanced around at the silent mansion. Things weren't the same without Jack One to brighten the mood. She had seen torture dungeons more homey than the quiet manor and for someone who had seen her fair share of creepy places, Wuya could honestly say that there was something eerie about the place that sent shivers (metaphorically speaking) down her spine.

The sounds of tools tinkering in the underground lair caught her attention.

She floated down to Jack One's old lab and found the boy, the other Jack, the real one, working. He ignored her. The gall of it ranked her, but she kept her mouth shut and waited to see what he would do.

The real Jack was repairing a Jack Bot. Sparks few from his torch as he welded the last of the metal into place. When he was done, he lifted the helmet he wore and he finally looked over to her.

Wuya had seen more life in a dead fish.

Jack nodded to her. The politeness of the gesture felt wrong. Jack One had always enthusiastically tried to hug her despite her not having a corporeal form. Wuya found that she missed it. She missed having someone genuinely be happy at the sight of her.

"Do you eat?"

The question caught her off guard.

"I don't need to," she said. She might have preen a little over her superiority. She watched with curiosity as the boy moved to take a cookie off of a plate. Judging by the numerous crumbs, Jack had a bit of a sweet tooth. He munched silently and his glaze seem to look far off into the distance.

Jack One's creator was a lot younger than Wuya had anticipated. Smaller. More sombre. He was everything that Jack One wasn't and Wuya knew it wasn't accidental. She had been human once. There were plenty of times before her transformation when underneath the starry skies, she had wished she could have been anyone else. Wished that she was more than what she was. That's what led to her to the Heylin side. She knew deep in her bones that she was destine for greatness.

She saw that same potential for greatness in Dashi, that stubborn fool, and in Chase Young. She might have lost Dashi (his propensity for goodness withstanding everything she tempted him with), but that warrior with the silky black hair and devious grin would make a formidable ally. Wuya didn't think twice before converting him. All she had to do was remind Chase of his lying, deceitful mother and the rest had been easy.

Chase Young was her biggest success story.

He was also her biggest failure.

Chase had been too independent, too arrogant, too ambitious to control. He got too greedy for power and Wuya had lost her golden egg long before she lost the golden goose.

But here was another child.

It has been a long time since she considered training another apprentice.

Jack felt her gaze on him. His red eyes showed nothing when he stared right back at her. His white hair stood out in bed-head spikes and Wuya marveled at the color. It was like soft, white snow. He was an odd-looking child, a mix of white light from his pale skin to his hair. Like a cherub. But then there was his eyes, an ominous fire like crimson. His anomalous looks was almost beautiful in a way, a mixture of both angel and devil.

Wuya decided to read his thoughts.

Loneliness. Sadness. Bitterness. Resentment...even without any outward expression she could feel the emotions surge inside that blank exterior.

Mentally, she rubbed her hands gleefully.

Here was her chance to correct the mistakes she made with Chase and at the same time, pay respects to Jack One for his never-ending loyalty.

"The Heart of Jong," she said nonchalantly. She brought up the subject like one would comment about the weather. She saw a little frown line form between his brows. "It's a Shen Gong Wu."

He turns around to fiddle with the tools on the table, uninterested.

"It brings inanimate objects to life," she added. She watched as his hands stilled. "I believe the monks have it."

She floats around, humming.

"Of course, there's no point. There isn't a piece of Jack, the other Jack, to bring back. Unless..." she trails off and waits.

"Unless?" Jack took the bait.

"Unless we can somehow get him back, fully and wholly," Wuya finished.

The boy's hands were quick. He brought up a small device (she vaguely recalls that Jack One mentioned that its name was 'Computer') and he pulls up onto a screen everything there was to know about the Shen Gong Wu and their abilities.

"The Sands of Time..." the boy looked up. For once, his eyes showed signs of life. Wuya circled around him, almost predatory.

"You could go back in time," she nods. "Stop him from getting destroyed. Use the Heart of Jong and he will be real. A real living being like you and me."

She kept the fact that the Sands of Time was with Chase quiet.

Jack was thinking deeply.

"You can have him back," Wuya whispers, almost seductively, into his ear. "You'll never be alone again."

"What do I have to do?" Jack finally asked. His eyes, so much like Jack One, looked at her trustingly.

"I thought you'd never ask," Wuya smiles.

Under the dim lighting in Jack One's lair, they planned.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own xiaolin showdown. If I did, Chase would be groveling at Jack's feet.

Warning: Chase x Jack, Bad grammar since English is only my second language.

AN: Please enjoy and thank you for all the kind reviews. You guys are the best! This extra long chapter (extra long for me really) is my gift to you. Have a great Holiday and a Happy New Year! I don't suppose someone out there would want to make me a fan art as a present? No? Oh well. Just thought I'll ask.

Summary: The real Jack Spicer wasn't what they expected.

* * *

><p><strong>Existential <strong>

**V  
><strong>

* * *

><p>One year later...<p>

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><p>On a snowy mountain island, located somewhere in the middle of the arctic, Chase Young and the monks prepared for combat. They stood in a face-off near the edge of a cliff, knee deep in the snowdrift. Insults were tersely thrown (courtesy of the Dragon of Air really) and weapons were sharply drawn. The bitter cold temperature made the sullen mood worst as the snow fell and underneath the hood of their coats, the monks' expressions were stony. The wide mocking smile on Chase's face promised pain, a lot of it. It made the monks edgy and Hannibal could see how strained the knuckles were on the Dragon of Air's hand. The rising tension on the field made the anticipation in Hannibal grow. It had all the great making of being a decent showdown. Hannibal settled himself down to watch from a nearby hill.<p>

There was nothing quite like watching the monks get trounced to within an inch of their lives to perk up his mood.

"You're not going to join?" Wuya asked. She floated nonchalantly above him. The snowflakes flitted right through her and for one brief moment Hannibal grudgingly admitted to being slightly envious. The advantages of having a non-corporal form was starting to look pleasant. Wuya was comfortable in the freezing weather, the same as if it was a tropical day. It must be nice not having to worry about a frozen ass, Hannibal thought, as his own rear end was slowly starting to ice over. It was a good thing Ying Ying was beside him to provide the warmth. Underneath the feathery shelter, Hannibal was shielded from the worst part of the weather.

Ying Ying, as if he could read Hannibal's mind, shifted a little closer.

Hannibal absentmindedly patted Ying Ying on the side.

"Nah," he answered Wuya.

He had no interest in the Monsoon Sandal, the most useless Wu in existence. Most Heylin members would have given the damn thing to the monks to avoid wasting their time. The only reason Chase was joining the battle was for the sheer pleasure of fighting. Even from the distance Hannibal could feel how hotly Chase's blood was boiling. His ex-pupil was spoiling for a war and anyone with any shred of self-preservation could sense the blood thirsty nature. A part (a very _small_ part) of Hannibal felt sorry for the brats. When Chase got into one of his moods, even Hannibal was cautious about crossing paths with him.

"You want to make a bet?" he asked Wuya. He was never one to let a golden opportunity slip away. "Ten gold coins on who's going to be the runner up."

"You're on," Wuya agreed easily. She greedily nodded her head and her eyes gleamed. Hannibal knew he could count on her for a good wager. He had always admired that particular personality trait in her. Their shared love of gambling (along with their begrudging respect for each other) was probably what kept them from killing each other for all those centuries.

It was a long standing tradition between them, betting on matches they weren't a part of. When Chase was involved there wasn't any sense on betting on the winner. Chase would undoubtedly be on top. (Not to toot his own horn or anything, but Chase did learn his evil ways from the best in the business.) No, the more challenging bet would be on predicting who would be left to face off against Chase in the final spot. Hannibal eyed the monks shivering in their coats and shifted through the possibilities. Out of the four of them, which one was least likely to die from frost bite?

"The Dragon of Water," he finally decided.

"None of them," Wuya lifted a haughty nose the air.

Hannibal blinked.

"You're not going to bet on any of the monks?" he asked doubtfully. Hannibal raised an eyebrow and gave her a suspicious look.

The witch was obviously scheming something.

Wuya cracked a laugh. "You want to make a bet or what?"

Hannibal took a moment to think.

"Alright," he finally said. He made sure to keep Wuya in the corner of his eye, in case she tried to cheat somehow. (Even though her cheating was another trait he admired from her.)

Together, they watched as five pairs of hands reached for the Wu.

It was joined by another five pairs of hands.

Hannibal rubbed his eyes.

"No, you're not seeing double," Wuya said smugly. "Meet Chase-bot and the Xiaolin-bots, fully programmed with all the knowledge of the real Chase and Xiaolin Monks. Oh and did I mention the bots are also program with years worth of data on their fighting styles?"

Hannibal raised a hand to shield his eyes and he squinted at the five new figures.

If it wasn't for the goth like clothes and the penciled mark under their eyes, the robots could have been the living twins of Chase and the monks. The details in their design was realistic from the cruel smile on the Chase-bot's face to the Dragon of Air's unruly hair.

Hannibal hadn't been this surprise since the time Jack One actually managed to win the Monkey Staff.

"It seems that you have a new apprentice," Hannibal eyed Wuya. So _this_ was what Wuya had been up to for the last year... her sporadic disappearances was beginning to make more sense now. Judging by the way she was gleefully rubbing her tentacles, Wuya was confident her student would win.

"You want to back out of the bet?" Wuya asked slyly.

"Not a chance," Hannibal answered.

Over on the battlefield, he heard the shock exclamation coming from the monks.

"Is this even legal?" the Dragon of Air yelp. He stared at the robot version of himself who gave him a cocky grin.

A little robot in the shape of a bird, not unlike Ying Ying, flew over their heads. It projected a screen and the image of Jack (the real one) came on.

"Section Three, paragraph five, law thirty-one of the official Shen Gong Wu Battle Tournament states that '_any__one__ who wish__es__ to participate in the showdown __but is unable to__,__ due to illness or handicap, may __be __allow__ed__ a replacement to represent them.__' _As you can see, I'm exercising that right to enter this battle."

"Yeah well, little buddy," the Dragon of Earth tipped the edge his cowboy hat. "You've got like five representatives."

"Yea! It's not kosher, dude," the Dragon of Air added.

The Jack that is onscreen looked out with an unconcern expression. "They're fighting as one unit. If one of them is knocked out in battle, then I will forfeit the match."

Jack's red-colored eyes stared impassively at the monks.

"Besides, there are four of you and one Chase Young. That doesn't seem to be 'kosher' either."

The monks looked at each other with unease.

"Can he do that, Dojo?" the Dragon of Fire asked with a confused expression.

The dragon mascot hesitated. "There's nothing in the rules that says he _can't_ have robots representing him."

Chase rolled his eyes. "Who cares. Just get on with it."

"I do not mind," the Dragon of Water said sagely. He bowed to the version of himself. "I would be most honored to fight myself."

"I too am most honored to fight myself," the robot replied back. He also bowed. The sunlight made the metal chrome of his bald head shine blindingly bright.

"So this is your plan?" Hannibal asked doubtfully. "Have them essentially fight against themselves?"

"Just watch," Wuya said.

So Hannibal did.

The ground shook when the battle for the Wu began. The earth rumbled and the snowy mountain shifted and grew until the Wu was high on the tallest peak. The monks and Chase had to brace themselves when the wind violently picked up. A heavy blizzard rolled over them and Hannibal could tell, using the Falcon's eye, that the monks had trouble seeing.

"Argh! I really hate the cold," Hannibal heard one of the monk shout. They blindly stumbled forward. By the time they managed to adjust their eyes, Chase was already halfway up the mountain with the robots not far behind.

"So not Kosher!" the Dragon of Air yelled. He grabbed for a foothold and scrambled up as fast as he could. "Son of a gun!"

The robot version of himself came from out of nowhere to knock him back down to the base.

"Hey!" The Dragon of Earth barely managed to dodge a punch from his own double. "Aren't you guys suppose to be getting the Wu?"

"Got it covered, big guy," his twin drawled. "I'd worry more about yourself if I were you."

In the chaos, the Dragon of Fire and the Dragon of Water climbed passed the fighting.

"Should we be insulted, Omi?" the Dragon of Fire asked. They were being completely ignored. Their bot versions were too busy ganging together to fight Chase under Chase-bot's leadership.

Hannibal had to admit, he hadn't been this entertained in a while.

For minutes, he watched the mayhem as the bots seem more intent on attacking everyone else than reaching the Wu. The mountain shook as a blast rocked overhead. The debris rained down. Hannibal watched as the real Chase slid down a few inches and the robotic version of Chase smirks.

"Go get the sandal," Chase-bot ordered.

The bots of the Dragon of Fire and the Dragon of Water flew off.

The little bird that projected Jack's image flew to rest on Chase-bot's shoulder.

Jack took a moment to stare down at Chase.

"Finish him, Chase-bot," Jack said.

"I will not be done in by a piece of useless junk," Chase snarled.

The Chase-bot goes flying with the force of his punch.

"Alright, time to end this!" The Dragon of Fire muttered. She grabbed onto the Dragon of Water's head like it was a bowling ball. "Ready?"

"Ready!" The Dragon of Water answered.

With a heave, she threw the Dragon of Water upwards with backbreaking strength. He sailed pass the two bots and managed to grab the Wu. Everything reverted back to the original landscape.

Oddly enough, Wuya doesn't seem that upset by the outcome. Hannibal's eyes narrowed as Wuya gloated.

"What are you and the boy up to?" he asked. She seem too happy about losing. Suddenly, Hannibal felt something tug on the back of his mind. It took him a few moments before he managed to pinpoint what that wronged feeling was.

His nest had been broken into.

Wuya started to high-tail it away as fast as she could float.

"We're borrowing the moby-morpher for a little bit!" Wuya called.

The bots made themselves scarce and flew off in a hurry.

Hannibal saw Chase's head snap. The Heylin took off towards his citadel at the same time the monks got a call from Master Fung. Clever boy...

While they were distracted, Jack Spicer had been stealthy breaking into all their vaults.

It was cunning plan. The boy knew the invisible shield that the tournament provided (to keep the damage to the surrounding environment minimal) would dampen everyone's sense of the outside world. While the fighting was going on, they had no clue that their homes were being burglarized.

"Jack Spicer has put the sheep over our eyes!" the Dragon of Water exclaimed.

The robots were just a mere diversion. The goal wasn't to get the Wu. The goal was to stall the battle for as long as possible.

"He took the Heart of Jong," the Dragon of Air hung up his cell phone.

"Three guess on why," the Dragon of Earth commented in a somber tone.

The Dragon of Air clamped his hand over the Dragon of Water's mouth before he could speak. "It's a rhetorical question, Omi."

"Do we let Jack get away with it?" the Dragon of Fire questioned.

"Hell no! Let's go get back our Wu!" the Dragon of Air ran a hand through his hair. "We'll just wait like an hour or something."

Hannibal scoffed at how soft-hearted they were.

Then he thought about Jack One and the way the bot use to snap at his heel, eager to learn how to be a proper villain. He could see the bot now, red doe-like eyes shinning like a happy puppy and a grin as wide as the day was long.

Jack One reminded Hannibal of himself when he was a little seed planning his first diabolic scheme. Thousands of years of evilness tends to make things rather mundane. He had forgotten what a rush it was plotting to rule the world until Jack One's naivety and excitement began to rub off on him (like a contagious plague). Hannibal found that he was excited about evil again, something he hadn't been in a long time.

Hannibal suppose it wouldn't hurt to take a page out of the monks' book. He'll take the long scenic route home today. If the real Jack Spicer finished doing what he was doing by the time Hannibal reached home and realized that that he had been ripped off, then everyone can contribute that to luck on the boy's part and not on Hannibal's rare moment of generosity.

Of course, he wasn't going to let Wuya or the real Jack Spicer get away with robbing him. Nobody (and he means nobody) robs Hannibal Roy Bean and gets away with it. Today (and only for today) it just seems like a good day to take a nice, long walk.

Hannibal whistled as he and Ying Ying walked away.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own Xiaolin showdown. If I did, Chase would be groveling at Jack's feet.

Warning: Chase x Jack, Bad grammar since English is only my second language.

AN: I am very fortunate to have such kind reviewers and awesome readers who decided to place this story on their favorites or alerts. It really means a lot.

Summary: The real Jack Spicer wasn't what they expected.

* * *

><p><strong>Existential <strong>

**VI**

* * *

><p>Chase doesn't know what angered him more. The fact that a Wu was stolen right from under him or the fact that it was <em>Spicer<em> who did it. Spicer, of all people, who had the smarts and the gumption to put all the cats asleep with a mist in the air and send in a bot to steal the Sands of Time. _Spicer_, who had the gall to create a robot in Chase's image and send the bot out as a distraction. _Spicer_, who had so carefully planned to rob everyone while they were out fighting amongst each other.

Chase moved through the citadel, agitated, as the cats around him scampered out of his way.

He felt a familiar pain throb inside his head. It was an ache that only occurs whenever he thinks about the boy. Chase had to resigned himself to the fact that all incarnations of Spicer (whether made from flesh or bolts) were bound to be a thorn in his side.

Like the proverbial 'insect' that Chase had always referred to him as, Spicer has the resilience of a cockroach. If one dies, a dozen more seem to rise to take his place. Their only goal in life seems to be making Chase's life as difficult as possible. The only difference between the new Spicer and the old was that the old one was airheaded, clumsy, and prone to act rashly. For something artificial, he was far too emotional and Chase could read every move and every thought from expressive crimson eyes. The robotic Jack Spicer was predictable. The mistake they all made (and by they he means the monks and Hannibal as well) was in thinking that his creator was the same way.

It was a mistake he wouldn't make again.

The new Spicer reminded him a little of Dashi. They both moved in a similar way. Cautious and shrewd. Chase still remembered all the games of chess he and Dashi had played together growing up. Even when he had the advantage, Chase always found himself unknowingly moving the way Dashi wanted. Dashi's eyes were always looking ahead, predicting and shifting through the possibilities. He had always planned his moves accordingly and with deep thought. They must have played a hundred games, but Chase has never won a match. It was something that he resented, yet also admired about Dashi. If he had allowed himself to feel it, Chase might have regretted not playing one last game with Dashi before they went their separate ways.

He wouldn't be able to deal with the new Spicer like he did with the old. If the boy was anything remotely like Dashi, Chase had to move his pawns carefully. This was one game he planned on winning. He refused to lose to someone like Spicer. His pride wouldn't survive the fall if he does.

Chase took his place on the throne and his mood turned more sour when he noticed Guan floating nearby. Guan said nothing, but his expression was one of knowing.

"You're angry," Guan noticed.

"How very observant of you," Chase bit out sarcastically. Guan always did have a way of stating the obvious. Chase was distracted when he heard a loud caw. One of the raven spies he had sent out had returned with news. It flew into the room and came to a landing on the arm of the throne.

It began to talk.

The spy spoke about the hundreds of bots that now surrounded Spicer's manor which served as the first level of protection. There were talismans scattered around that warded against outside magic (Wuya's idea, no doubt) and traps. Spicer had set laser beams all around the perimeter that fired at the slightest movement. The burnt feathers of his spy made the citadel smell of cooked bird. There was a bald patch on the raven and the bird squawked his unhappiness.

There were dozens of surveillance camera at the manor, all carefully watching for trespassers. No one can step onto the property without consequences. As innocuous as the raven was, even he didn't escape undetected.

Spicer was heavily fortifying the manor against attack.

Chase was never one to turn down a challenge. The only thing stopping him was the cowering spirit he noticed lingering behind a pillar. Jack Spicer, the version that Chase was more familiar with, cringed when Chase looked his way. Spicer was still wearing the same clothes he was killed in. His dyed red hair and pale white skin seem to gleamed in the dark.

Spicer wasn't a living entity and yet he seem to have a soul.

Chase's eyes narrowed.

Something brought Spicer back. It must have been something powerful to give something like Spicer a semi-corporeal form.

Spicer swallowed before he managed to work up the courage to step fully in front of Chase.

"Hiya Chase, long time no see," Spicer nervously said. "Oops."

The spirit tripped and fell right through one of the cats lying on the floor. The adult white leopard shuddered from the chill as Spicer picked himself up in a hurry. Chase's headache became a full-blown migraine.

"What do you want, worm?" Chase growled. Of course Spicer would haunt him. Even when Spicer was living, he had a knack for irritating Chase. Why should the matter of him being destroyed be any different?

"I guess the cat is out of the bag, huh," Spicer said. "No offense," he added to the cat nearest him. Spicer looked Chase straight in the eyes and he confessed. "I'm a robot. Or at least I was. "

Spicer started to babble. He talked about his origins, about his creator, about his entire life actually. Chase learned more than he ever wanted to know about Spicer in the five long minutes he spent half-listening to the spirit talk. The other half of his thoughts were planning on ways to destroy the living Spicer and get back his Wu.

"...need you to stop Jackie," Spicer said.

Chase's mind halted at Spicer's last sentence. He started to pay more attention to Spicer's rambling. Chase saw real fear in Spicer's eyes (not the sniveling kind of fear that Spicer gets when he's beaten in a battle), but real terror-stricken despair.

"It's not going to end well what he's planning. I need you to stop Jackie and make sure he's safe," Spicer looked at Chase pleadingly. "I've tried everyone else, but you're the only one who can see me. You're the only one I can depend on."

"What if I don't want to?" Chase scoffed. "What if I just let him destroy himself?"

"You wouldn't do that," Spicer shook his head.

"I wouldn't?" Chase leaned forward in his throne with a feral look.

"No," Spicer straightened his shoulders. "I saved your life. You _owe_ me, Chase."

Chase leaned back. "I owe you nothing, _robot_."

The insult hurts Spicer.

Guan floated to Spicer's side and placed a hand on Spicer's shoulder in comfort.

Somehow, that action irritated Chase.

"I get it. I'm a robot, I don't have real feelings, right?" Spicer seemed to choked on the words. "Never-mind, I should have known better than to come to you for help."

Spicer vanished.

For a long time afterwards Spicer's tear-filled crimson eyes stays with him as he sat on his throne.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own xiaolin showdown. If I did, Chase would be groveling at Jack's feet.

Warning: Chase x Jack, Bad grammar since English is only my second language.

AN: Thank you for reading this far.

Summary: The real Jack Spicer wasn't what they expected.

* * *

><p><strong>Existential <strong>

**VII**

* * *

><p>Looking back on the battle that ended his life, Jack realized that maybe he was more good than he was evil. That maybe he wasn't as much of a genius as he proclaimed himself to be (and wasn't that a kick in the pants). He couldn't say that shoving Chase out of the way of the blast was his smartest move (it was probably the stupidest thing he's ever done), but if someone were to ask, he could honestly say that he didn't regret it. The sacrifice, to him, had been worth it.<p>

The explosion was fast, loud, and powerful. As Jack flew backwards from the force of the blast, his alarms blared and he was a mess of emotions. Half of him wanted to laugh. The other half wanted to cry. He wondered if this was how Jackie created him to be. Complicated. Emotional. To feel as much conflict as possible (good or evil, cheery or angry, happy or sad) so that he was more human like. Jackie had always said that Jack was more than just something that was made out of metal and bolts. Jack was special. He cared maybe just a little too much about everything around him. He cared more to make up for the people (the real ones like Jackie's parents) who cared less.

When the fire finally reached his core circuits and wires, right before his motherboard finally gave out, his life flashed before his eyes.

The very first time he came online...Jack stared at his creator, a small, white-hair boy with lonely red eyes that matched his own. He doesn't know if the protective urge he felt was something that was programmed into him or whether it was something that grew naturally as his operating system learned more about the world he was created into. Either way, the urge to take care of his creator was strong. It was like a physically pull. Even now, Jackie was the center of his universe. Jackie would be the one thing he regret leaving behind.

His first Shen Gong Wu battle...He got his ass handed to him by the monks, but underneath all the whining he did, Jack couldn't help but grin. He felt alive in a way that went beyond the gears shifting inside his chest and the binary numbers that ran his system. He was eagerly looking forward to the next battle.

The first Wu he ever won...the monkey staff wasn't much of a win, but it was the first success he had in his goal of conquering the world. He never wanted to forget the feeling of victory.

The first time he met Chase...If Jack had a real heart, he was sure it would be racing as golden, narrowed eyes glared at him. Jack's admiration never wavered from that moment. That's what led him there, saving Chase at the expense of his own life.

The first time he honestly wished for something...machines were never suppose to have wishes, but if he had one Jack would wish that he was human. He would also like to wish for a half-naked Chase Young.

With that last thought, everything went dark.

When Jack opened his eyes, he woke to a whole new world where there was nothing but a white-wash empty space that stretched for miles in every direction. Siting up, he stared dumbly around.

"Amazing, isn't it?" a voice asked. Jack's head snapped to the side. He turned so fast, he half expected to hear a protesting creak in his gears. If he was real, he probably would have gotten a whip-lash from the abrupt move. Grabbing his neck out of reflex (years of pretending to be human was now an unconscious habit) Jack blinked at a familiar looking man who eyed him with a kind, but curious look.

"I am Dashi," the man introduced himself. He helped Jack to his feet and Jack's memory kicked in.

"_The_ Dashi? Grandmaster Dashi of Xiaolin?" Jack's eyes bugged out. "Seriously?"

The man smiled.

The history books didn't really do the Grandmaster justice. Dashi was so much more awesome in person. And taller. Definitely taller. He stood almost two heads above Jack.

"Whoa..." Jack blinked. "Does this mean that I'm in heaven?"

"It's more like a middle ground." Dashi patted him on the shoulder. "This place is a lot like you. Neither purely good or bad. Neither purely cruel or kind."

Jack's thoughts whirled.

"So like, I'm in purgatory?" he questioned. "I didn't know robots could come here. I mean, it's not like I was actually alive."

He winced as soon as the words left his mouth. The truth hurt more than he thought was possible. Suddenly, all Jack felt was tired and sad.

"We all have our own definition of living," Dashi said. "I've been watching you, Jack Spicer, and I can tell you that you were very much alive as any human."

Jack almost bawled like a baby at the comforting words. Scratched that, he actually did bawl like a baby. He threw his arms around Dashi with a wail.

"I'll show you around," The grandmaster said when Jack finished sobbing.

With a loud sniff, Jack followed.

There wasn't much to see in that place. Purgatory was kind of boring. The time passed tortuously slow with nothing to do and Jack swore he could feel the pent-up antsy tingle go through his body (it felt like someone had use Ant-in-the-pants on him). Dashi seem to be content to lie around with a straw hat over his eyes, but the idleness drove Jack nuts. Jack was use to the chaos of Xiaolin battles and hunting for Wu and taking care of Jackie. His hands need something to do. His brain wasn't meant for the serenity of this place.

"I'm bored," he whined to Dashi.

Looking up from underneath his straw hat, Dashi gave Jack a contemplative look. He reached inside his shirt and he tossed something that Jack barely managed to catch.

"A book?" Jack stared at the leather-bound pages.

"It's something I made a long time ago to go with the crystal glasses." Dashi remarked.

Jack flipped to the first page. "It's blank."

"It's reading you. Give it a little time." The straw hat went back over Dashi's eyes.

Jack watched as words appeared on the page. His name. Hair. Eye color. Where he was created and the date he was destroyed. Everything that anyone needed to know about Jack Spicer- the robot- was there. His entire life was summarized in those pages and gaping, he flipped through the book.

He came across Jackie's name.

"I think your Wu's busted," Jack said. In the bio about Jackie, one sentence stood out.

_Currently Living. Will be decease-December 12-XXXX-killed by Xiaolin Monks._

"There's no way the Monks would kill Jackie." If there was anything in the world he was sure of, it was the Monks' unbending goodness.

"It's not wrong," Dashi remarked. "The Crystal Book is one hundred percent accurate."

Dashi finally lifted the brim of his hat and glazed contemplatively at Jack. He gave Jack a serious look and a chill went down Jack's spine.

"I'm sorry," Dashi said. There was sympathy in his expression. Growing anxious, Jack began pacing.

Jack ran an agitated hand through his hair.

"What did Jackie do that deserves getting killed?"

"It's not what he did, it's what he's going to do," Dashi commented.

"Semantics," Jack grumbled. "Okay then, what is he going to do?"

"He's going to destroy the world."

"Uh huh," Jack twitched. "And I'm the Queen of Sheba."

Dashi looked unfazed and Jack paused, uneasy.

"Is Jackie really going to destroy the world?" he asked.

"Yes." Dashi answered.

Jack's shoulders began to sag.

"Is it because I'm not there?"

Jack had always known that Jackie was more fragile than most people. It wasn't just physical limitation. It was also the social. Jackie didn't have much for company. That's why he built Jack in the first place. Jack was the one constant that Jackie could always count on and now Jack was gone.

Jackie didn't have anyone else.

Jack reread through the rest of Jackie's bio, somber. The ending left him feeling miserable.

"It's all my fault," he shook his head. Jack had always known that there was a slight chance that he could be damaged beyond repair whenever he fought against the Monks or anyone from the Heylin side. He should have made a contingency plan for Jackie in case something happened and he couldn't be there.

Hindsight was such a bitch.

Dashi took the book out of Jack's hands and tucked it back into his shirt against Jack's protest.

"The future is never set in stone," Dashi commented. "There's an old saying. A little push from the wind can send a leaf fluttering in a different direction."

"Could you be any more cryptic?" Jack complained. Dashi face-palmed. Jack ran a hand through his hair in agitation. He grabbed Dashi's shoulders. "There's something I can do, right?" he asked urgently.

"There might be a way," Dashi remarked. "Though it might require a sacrifice from you."

"I'll do whatever it takes," Jack said grimly.

"Alright." Dashi placed a hand against Jack's chest. "Hold on tight."

With one hard shove, Dashi sent Jack back down to earth. "Good luck, Jack Spicer."

Jack yelped and disappeared into a blinding light.


End file.
